


Pheromones

by bearseokie



Category: VICTON (Band)
Genre: All Rights Reserved, Do Not Translate, Do not repost, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Gen, Marking, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Wax Play, kang seungsik smut, seungsik smut, victon fluff, victon smut, victon x reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:48:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29362029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearseokie/pseuds/bearseokie
Summary: Going through life allured by scents, you begin to fall for the man that runs a small shop selling candles.
Relationships: Kang Seungsik / Reader
Kudos: 9





	Pheromones

**Author's Note:**

> repost from my tumblr @bearseokie! feedback is appreciated :)

Lavender, mint, the smell of burning wood. All in your nose at once, the scents overwhelming to some, but a necessity to yourself. The bell jingled above the door, the array of smells that met you outside thicker when your shoes met the welcoming mat. Lines of short isles around the small shop, each mediated by lumbered shelves stained to fit the aesthetic. Glass jars held the wax that emitted the scents that made your body feel calm. The aroma of the store comforting as you paced up and down the aisles.

Light jazz playing over the speakers, your eyes scanned over the different sizes of candles, each categorized differently and organized by color. The entirety of the store looked professional for just having opened, the empty space in the building abandoned before the owner bought it and changed it into the masterful business. Following the colors from black to deep red, a shuffling sound echoed from the back of the store.

A struggling groan from a man sounded to where you stood, the sound of glass cracking against the tiled floor alerting. Ambling to the counter on the far left, you held your bag to your shoulder while leaning over the marbled table. A bright light exerting from the hallway off to the side, you couldn’t see the man.

“Hello?” you called out, voice softer than you wanted it to be. “Are you alright?”

Voice louder the second time, a slight chuckle came from down the hallway. The man out of your sight sighed aimlessly, his footsteps moving closer as you heard him speak.

“I’m alright, just lost my grip. I’ll be with you in a moment!” his voice deeper than you imagined, smooth yet graveled like when a car slips from a paved road down a dirt trail.

“Okay,” you said even softer, letting your bag loosen from your hold on it.

With the sound of glass scraping across the flooring, your eyebrows creased together, eyes squinting from the irritable sound. Moving from the counter, you regained the area you originally stood. Following back along the lines of candles, every few seconds you picked one up to hold it near your nose. With the collection all around, you were wonderstruck by the artistic ability to provide so many choices, and feverish about coming across one in particular.

Behind one of the shelves, the figure of the man met your gaze. The vision of him altered by the line of candles and wooded border of the shelf, only his torso was in your view. Watching him move out from the yellow-lighted doorway, his buttoned shirt neatly cuffed at his elbows and tucked into his pants, he swayed with serenity. Lifting yourself onto your tip-toes, you noticed he had a large candle held against his chest, arm wrapped tightly around it as if he were carrying a child.

You gently placed your hand against the shelf, peering around to see his entire figure. Met with a man taller than you, his hair neatly placed on his head and focus set on the candle in his hold, you took in a sharp breath. With the sound of your sudden overtaken state concealed by the jazz music playing, your body whipped back around into the hidden space of the skinny aisle. Scents swimming about in the air, you took a few deep breaths to calm yourself. The man’s appearance enthralling, and not what you had expected to walk out of the back. Standing before the green candles, you gripped the ends of your sweater in the palms of your hands, nails digging past the fabric leaving small crescents into the skin. Staring at the candles, you tried to distract yourself from the handsome man feet away, reading over the personalized titles on the labels of the glass candles. None of the names fit the one you wanted, the one you came into the store for originally. On the search for the particular scent, a voice startled you.

“Do you need help looking for anything?” the man asked, his arm letting the candle down against the marble counter-top.

Unaware that his eyes found your figure - similar to how you saw his through the filled shelves, though he was unable to see anything but your sweater in his view - you jumped. Quickly skimming over the rest of the green candles, you stepped around the corner of the shelf, taking in his entire appearance.

Eyes soft and inviting, stance collected and warming, he was clearly the only working employee in the shop. Holding your tongue in your mouth to keep from saying anything silly, his toothless smile lifted the strange air. Silently walking up to the counter, your eyes never left his. With a curious nose twitch, he continued to smile at you as your smaller frame set in front of the counter.

“Actually, I do need help,” you said calmly, trying to keep your voice from rising in pitch out of sheer nervousness.

With his eyes placed on your lips as you spoke, you couldn’t help but feel a bead of sweat threatening to fall from your hairline down your temple. Though it was cold outside and within the store, the fabric of the sweater you wore began to hold your body heat, causing your cheeks to redden from the temperature change and embarrassment.

“I’m looking for a specific scented candle,” you stated, watching his lips curl upward more, eyes glittered as he laughed.

“I may or may not have it.” he smiled, curiosity in the tone of his voice.

“Petrichor,” you said quickly, the word slipping off your tongue like an expletive.

Watching his eyes dim in thought, he glanced over the stocked shelves, lips twisted. He swiveled, eyes still fixed on the candles around as he moved from behind the counter. Lips mouthing the word petrichor over and over again, he focused. Form bigger than yours, he moved past you at such a quick speed that the breeze from him made a shiver run up your spine. Following his pace, he stopped just in front of the blue candles, finger skimming over the labels as he read. With the candles in alphabetical order, it took him seconds to find the deep blue jar, lifting it out of the line to show it to you.

Your cheeks went from red to pink, the sight of the candle you had searched for directly in your range. Holding it tightly, the medium-sized candle slipped from his hand into yours. The cool glass jar made chills produce on your skin, the bumps unseen by the man as they were underneath your sweater. The light exchanging of his fingers caressing yours when the glass met your hold pulled a breath from you. Hands so warm compared to the coolness of the temperature around, you wanted to replay the moment in your head for hours.

You took a second to look him over in the daylight illuminating from the large windows in the front of the store, his charming smile making you blink rapidly. He looked as if he had walked out of a movie. You stared into his eyes, which were flashing between the candle in your hands and your face. Taking in an awkward breath, you rocked on your heels, mouth quivering.

“No one ever has this one.” you laughed lightly. “The scent is so rare.”

“I know.” he grinned widely, smile so bright it made your heart skip a beat. “I had to really study in order to recreate it.”

His words made you fall stiff, brows creased together as you looked back down at the blue candle. You browsed the rest of the candles, the shelves almost fully packed since he recently opened the shop not even a month ago.

“C-Create it?” you questioned, watching him carefully.

“Yes! I make all of these myself.” His words were relaxed, body scanning over the small shop with a look of gratification.

“Wow,” you exclaimed, holding the candle even tighter with the knowledge that he made it himself. “You must have a lot of patience.”

His laugh was joyful, moving back towards the counter. Following him again, he maneuvered through the little, gaunt space between the counter and wall, shuffling through something within the bookshelf against the wall.

“No, actually,” he said, stepping to the side to let you see past him to the cabinets of the bookshelf. “I just had a lot of free time.”

A huge stack of books and booklets sat neatly within the cabinet of the bookshelf, each titled with something related to candle-making. In awe that he took the time to read and master the hobby enough to turn it into a career, you were practically speechless. Mouth falling open, his laugh erupted you from your shocked state as he shut the cabinet door.

“Crazy, I know,” he stated, smile fading slightly as his hand ran up and down his left arm.

Seeing him in a sudden state of anxiousness was grounding, the man’s aura so thick and engaging that you were entranced to belive he was flawless. He is only merely another human being in front of you. Clearing your throat, the optimism in the air etiolated when he spoke up again.

“Can I help you find anything else?” he moved up to the counter, hands pressed flat against the marble as he waited for you to respond.

“Ah, this is all I came in for actually,” you said calmly, setting the candle onto the counter.

Smiling, his large hand moved and picked up the candle. Sliding the bottom of it over the scanner to ring it up, a beep sounded in the air during the transaction. You watched him lean over to grab something, standing up straight with a bag in his hold, putting the candle into it gently. With a candle and name of the shop printed on the front, he couldn’t hold in another grin as he passed the bag over to you with your receipt.

“Complimentary recyclable bag for your kindness, patience, and care for me breaking glass in the back of the store earlier.” he smiled.

Laughing, your fingers found his again when the handle passed to you, warm and soft just as the first touch. With the bag held at your side, you gave him another glance. Chuckling, he leaned over the counter, his arms holding up his body.

“My name’s Seungsik, by the way. And if you ever need another specific scented candle, I’ll be here to hand it to you.” his words gentle, the glistening of his eyes making the chills go over your skin again.

With an amiable nod, you exited the store. The breeze of the cooler air freshening. His demeanor was etched into your mind, and although the petrichor candle had been the scent you searched months for, his scent was stuck in your nostrils with more meaning.

-  
Two weeks passed, your days busy with work and home life before you found yourself stationed in front of the candle shop again. The sun now bright, the weather was nearly opposite of what it had been the day you first went in. Light breezes making the small heatwave cooler, the air was as clear as the blue sky above.

You stood, the thin but still long-sleeved shirt you wore swaying in the wind. Eyes reading the sign beside the door flashing “Open”, a few people passed by before moving into the store. Peering in through the window, you noticed the small shop seemed entertained, a couple browsing the candles alongside an elderly lady flipping through one of the candle-making booklets. Seungsik had stocked another shelf with the booklets, a feature you didn’t notice aside from his own, personal collection in the cabinet behind the check-out counter.

Stomach flipping, even the mention of his name in your head made butterflies flutter in your stomach. Immediately turning on your heels to head home, you decided to skip on trying to go in to see about another candle purchase. A sudden body before you made you halt to a stop, the taller person struggling to carry a cardboard box. Your eyes squinted in the blinding sunlight, hand flattening over them to get a better look at the person. As your hand rose to your face, a familiar laugh rang in your ears.

“Very bright today.” Seungsik chuckled, holding the cardboard box in his arms, overstacked with the same booklets as the elderly lady skimmed through in the store, he lifted it up higher to keep from spilling the thin books out. “Could you do me a favor?”

“Of course,” you said, not a single beat missed as you mentally slapped yourself.

“Mind spotting me while I carry these in? The last thing I want to do right now is drop them and look unprofessional.”

The reoccurring sentences he sent towards you that made you realize he is just another person didn’t fail to bring you back to reality. Gesturing for him to head for the store, he stopped as you pulled the door open for him. His smile at you widely. With the shade of the store cleared your vision better, you noticed how his eyes lingered on your lips a few extra beats before he stepped through the door.

Watching him set them down onto the counter, his smile didn’t fade as he called out to the elderly woman, asking if she needed help. You stood awkwardly, rocking on your heels as you looked around. Taking the free time to walk around the store, you listened to him talk respectfully to the woman as he helped her find a large-printed book and check out. In awe of him again, you watched him race back around the counter, opening the door as she went to leave, gifting her a smile and nod.

“Your professionalism is quite elite,” you stated behind him, watching him turn around with blushed cheeks.

The couple stood a few feet away, bickering about which candle to get as they argued. Seungsik took notice, stepping towards them to offer a sale on one in order to help solve their problem. You were fascinated, his charm now exceeding when you first met. With the exchange of “Thank you”, the couple was out the door, happy and content with their candles.

“I’m so glad you stopped by when you did,” he said, flashing you a gentle smile, cheeks rosy.

“I didn’t do anything, really,” you said, playing with the hem of your shirt, his eyes catching your timid movement.

“M-May I request another favor?” he stuttered, your eyes blinking up at him in confusion.

You mulled over his expression, the flustered state catching you by surprise. Nodding, you sent him a smile, watching his shoulders relax as he took in a deep breath. Watching his expression change from soft to curious, his lips twisted.

“Go on a date with me?” his tone soft, standing idle as he waited for your answer.

Lips pulling into a small pout, you thought for a second before speaking up. “Of course.” you choked out, staring at him.

-  
The rest of the day slipped by in a blur, standing before the same store hours later. The sun was nearly set, the sky a dark blue. The lights around the front window of the candle shop lightened the doorway, a soft glow on the sidewalk. Pulling the door open, Seungsik stood, white shirt and pants neatly ironed and tucked together. It was his turn to gesture you into the store.

Remembering what he said before you left the store again, a smile rose on your face. “I’ll make it fun. I can teach you how I make my candles, and even make one especially for you since you love them so much. I’ll order takeout, and we can eat while the wax sets.” his eyes were so bright with enthusiasm when he spoke, you couldn’t turn him down. You didn’t want to.

Stepping into the candle shop for the third time, a line of candles trailed towards the check-out counter. You smiled, walking down the aisle made of the lit candles as Seungsik diligently followed you. Making your way into the back, you realized just how homely he was, the entire area made into a small living and dining room, along with a station for working. Your eyes followed the wide room made into different sections, the candles still lit about instead of a bright, over-head lamp. It was romantic.

“This place is beautiful,” you spoke, taking notice of his pretty decor and discreet floorplan set out nice enough to be minimalistic.

“I live upstairs, but this is where I usually am,” he said, hands clasped behind his back as he leaned over your shoulder, observing how you took in his home.

Another thing that brought you back to reality. You hadn’t thought twice about how the store had an upper floor, or that he - as everyone - struggles financially with the bare minimum, such as meshing his home and work into one building. The idea of just how much he had to pay for what he had made you dizzy, laughing as you sat down at the round dining table. Slipping into the seat across from him, his chin fell into his palm, eyes watching you assiduously.

“Are you alright?” he asked with a small chuckle at the end of his sentence.

“Yes.” you smiled, eyebrows creased at his laughter. “What’s funny?”

“That was the first thing you said to me,” he commented, reminiscing about the day you met when you had called out to him after hearing the commotion.

It was oblivious to you that this was the exact spot that he had smashed an empty jar, the glass splattering on the floor making him huff before he heard your soft voice in the distance. The way his eyes blinked at you was a tell that he saw the memory as special.

“Why don’t we get started?” he smiled, standing and moving over to his candle-making station.

With the items already set out, he had an array of things to choose from. Scents, a holder for the candle, even had colored utensils for you to use. Moving to stand beside him, his side rubbed against your shoulder when he turned to look over at you, the short physical contact making your heart race.

“Which one would you like?” he asked, hand motioning towards the jars and ceramic flower pots set out to make the candle in. With a small smile, your finger connected with a flower pot, running the digit across the smooth surface. “Good choice.” he grinned.

Pulling the rest of the options away, you lifted the small bottle of scent in your hand, the title blank. Looking at the label, you listened to him carefully set the other things in different places, clearing your workspace. Moving around you, he slowed down, the last glass jar in his hands.

“Interesting,” he said calmly, placing the jar down to take his place back beside you. “I’ve never used that one before.”

“It intrigued me,” you said, shaking the bottle while holding it between your thumb and index finger.

“You’re intriguing,” he said, his stare sudden like he didn’t mean to say that out loud.

Smiling away the awkwardly slipped compliment, he kept the process going. Pouring water into the flower pot, you both measured how much you’ll need to make the candle before pouring it into a measuring cup for exact numbers. A beaming grin on his face, he placed the wick in for you, cutting it and hot gluing it to the bottom of the pot for later use. Putting a cooking pot onto a scale, he let it heat up enough for melting the soy flakes, pouring them and the water in as it began to simmer. Watching him gingerly work was fascinating to you, his hands going at a slower speed for you to learn the steps properly. Mixing your chosen scent into the wax, he poured it into your flower pot, letting the wax coat around the wick in the middle.

“That’s about all. This is just one way to make them, but it like it. It’ll be a few hours before the wax settles." 

Pulling out the takeout he ordered, he reheated it before making you both plates and setting the table. Taking your seats across from one another again, you learned a new chapter of Seungsik, the prodigious side.

"I moved here about a year ago, but I barely left the building and only used my days to make candles. It was a weird time, but I’m glad I experienced it.”

“You moved in here when you first got here?” you asked him, waiting as he sipped from a glass of red wine.

“Yeah, the old tenant here had to move out earlier than expected, so I got the first two months free.” he smiled graciously towards you, spoon digging around his food.

“Some would call that luck,” you stated, sipping your own wine as you shot him a glance of placidity.

“It brought me to this moment, so I consider myself extra lucky.”

You blushed, his right hand skimming over the small table to connect with your left one. Playing with your fingers in his grasp, he gently ran the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. Moving to clean up from the meal, he would sweep past you just to brush up against you again. Heart still racing, the last plate went into the sink, his hand lifting your wrist to his chest as his eyes met yours.

“I can feel your heartbeat,” he said, his thumb pressed against the top line of your ring finger. “It’s so fast. Do I make you nervous?”

“Not quite,” you whispered to him, letting him bring you in closer. With his face inches from yours, you took the chance you had been waiting for. “Kiss me.”

He didn’t hesitate, pressing his lips gently against yours. Hand sliding from where he felt your heart racing, he met your waist. Pulling you against his body, the kiss continued deeper, passionate. Lifting you from the ground for a second to make you even in height, your arms wrapped around his neck. Tracing small circles at his hairline, a moan fell from him. Placing you back down, he walked you backward, your calves meeting the soft couch a few feet away. As you fell back against the cushions, you laughed against his mouth, a smile pulling from him too.

His touch was gentle, scent filling your nostrils strongly when his body laid against yours. Hands gently moving up and down your clothed body, the sensual aroma built like a mask when you pulled back to pull off your shirt. The rough pads of his fingertips on your skin made the chills return, now felt by him as he smirked into the kiss. Pulling back to discard his own shirt, he leaned against your body to feel your skin contact his, both of you in a hazed state from the glasses of wine mixed with the thick scents of his candles still burning throughout the bottom floor of his building. Elapsed by his touch, you wanted to savor the moment but found yourself almost naked underneath him in the blink of an eye.

Pressing his pants against your clothed crotch, a loud gasp came from you, the reaction he was looking for. Rutting against you, your arousal stained through the thin fabric of your underwear, soaking into his pants at the same time. Pressing himself against you harder, the friction to your lower half made your head fall back. A hickey being sucked against your neck, he took in a sharp breath. Sliding his pants down, you weren’t the only one aroused. Distracted by the way his hand ran down his abdomen to his bulge in his boxers, the sight of him palming himself made your mouth water.

Eager to feel him, your hand replaced his own. The contact of your smaller hand on his member made him pant, tongue sliding across his bottom lip as he watched you peer up at him. Lost in his groans, he bent down to find your lips again, your index fingers hooking his boxers to slide them down. One knee on the sofa between your legs, he straightened himself out, his back muscles tense when your hand ran past them. With another moan, he left your mouth, kisses moving down your body. His teeth caught the fabric of your underwear, tugging them down your legs swiftly.

With light chuckles, you pulled him back between your legs, hand placed on the back of his neck. Pressing his forehead to yours, you breathed each other in. Aligning himself to you, he pushed in slowly, your body taking him in easily. Fingers dug into his skin, your eyes shut when he moved out and back in. Agonizingly slow, this was the one instance you wanted him to have full control of.

His hips kept a soft pace, rolling into you deeply as your legs clamped around his waist. Nails leaving crescents into his arm, your moans in his ear urged him to speed up, hips snapping up into you. His voice deep, he couldn’t speak, only making subtle groans. Lips pressed against your skin, his pace was gaining. Lifting his hand from your hip, his fingers wrapped around one of the skinny containers of a heated candle, the excess wax melted on top slushing around. Holding the candle towards his chest, a drip of wax poured down his front and over his abs. Hissing and moaning at the pain, his eyes rolled back, pace slowing to feel you more.

The scene before you was enthralling, watching the white wax glide down between his breasts, leaving a trail of irritated skin. Running his fingers through the drips, he groaned at the heat of the wax, looking down at you staring up at him with half-lidded eyes.

“Let me try it,” you said, voice just above a whisper.

Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to your stomach, keeping his hips moving slow. Tipping the candle, he lightly poured the wax onto your skin, the burn faint but there. Moaning, your hips lifted up into his, the ruts against him causing him to move faster. With the quicker pace forming, you felt a tug in the pit of your stomach. Another run of the hot wax between yours and his skin made you completely tighten up. Clenching around him, your orgasm hit, making him push into your deeper to find his own release. Stuttering, he pulled himself from you, his juices mixing on your stomach with the white wax.

Calming as you caught your breath, he sat against the couch for a second. Running his hand up and down your leg, he rose to find a cloth, cleaning both of you up. Pulling your underwear back up your legs, he did the same, settling down beside you as he placed your legs over his lap.

“I’ve never done that before, either.” he chuckled, tilting his head to watch the smile form on your lips. “Oh!”

Gently moving around your legs, he retrieved the candle from earlier. Index finger pressing within the ceramic container, the coolness of his home helped the wax harden in a good amount of time.

“This is yours,” he said, placing the ceramic pot into your hands. “Does it smell nice?”

Lifting the candle up to your face, the scent was stronger when it got closer to your nose. Taking in a long whiff, your eyes shut, the fragrance familiar.

“What is this, exactly?” you questioned, watching his teeth shine from behind his lips.

“It’s a scent I worked on for a long time. It’s based on personal psychology.”

“You lost me.”

“The scent is so faint, your mind has to fill in the blank with the scent you’re most appeased with,” he said, running his fingers over yours around the pot. “Usually it’s a human-based scent the body naturally gives off. I call it Pheromones.” his words soft, eyes staring at the white candle within the ceramic container. “What do you smell now?”

Taking one glance back down at the candle, your nose took another whiff. The scent was on the tip of your tongue before slipping through your lips. “It smells like you.”


End file.
